by L. T. Meade
CHAPTER VIII
ON THE TRAIL
Rockstone, the last outpost of civilization, had been left far behindand many miles of river had been covered when at last Colcord turnedthe boat's bow towards shore and ran the craft alongside a fallen treethat sloped from the high bank into the water.
Although the boys had seen much to interest them as they paddledupstream, yet they were cramped and tired, for, with the exception ofa short stop for lunch at noon, they had been seated in the boat fornearly ten hours. Moreover, after the first few miles, the river andits banks were merely a constant repetition of what they had seen:walls of tangled jungle like a vast green velvet curtain rising fromthe river; vivid flowering trees; great azure blue butterflies; noisycarrion hawks; chattering parrots and ungainly yelping toucans alongthe shore--all reflected as in a mirror by the oily brown water.
They had expected to see Indians and to have the thrill of navigatingrapids, but Mr. Thorne explained that these would not be reached untilthe following day and the boys were glad indeed to step on dry landand stretch their cramped legs when the boat at last was run ashoreand preparations were made to camp.
Rapidly and with perfect system, the Indians commenced work, cuttingpoles and stakes and in an incredibly short time a big tarpaulin hadbeen spread between the trees, hammocks were stretched and ready andthe savory odors of coffee, bacon, and broiling meat were wafted fromthe campfire where Sam was presiding as cook.
Presently Joseph approached, naked save for a scarlet loin cloth, andlooking the thoroughly primitive Indian with a long bow and arrows inhis hand.
"Mebbe you likeum sabby how Buckman shootum fish," he remarked.
"You bet we would!" cried Frank, jumping up. And then, rememberingthat he must talk the Indian's jargon, he added, "Me likeum too much.Me come see."
The Indian grinned and, without a word, turned and slipped silentlyinto the forest with the two boys at his heels. For a short distancehe led the way among the trees and then, turning towards the river,came out upon a jutting rocky point. Raising his hand as a signal forcaution, he stopped, fitted a six-foot arrow to his bow, and steppedsilently towards the water's edge. Intently the two boys watched,utterly at a loss as to what Joseph intended to do. Then they saw himsuddenly straighten up and quickly draw the huge bow. Like a streak oflight the long arrow darted into the river. The next instant he threwaside his bow, rushed forward, and, seizing the floating arrow,dragged a big silvery fish upon the rocks.
"Gosh!" exclaimed Tom, as the two boys rushed forward to where theIndian was extracting a barbed iron arrow point from the fish. "Inever saw anything like that! Why, he shot the fish with his arrow."
"Say, that _is_ a new way of fishing!" cried Frank, as heexamined the weapon. "This arrow's just like a harpoon with a headfastened to a line and not to the shaft. Gee, I wish Mr. Rawlins couldhave seen that."
Joseph grinned, picked up his bow and arrow, and a moment later hadshot a second fish. Absolutely fascinated, the boys watched him asfish after fish was secured in this novel manner and then, as darknesswas rapidly coming on, the three made their way back to camp.
Mr. Thorne chuckled as the boys enthusiatically related what they hadseen. "I forgot to tell you about that," he said. "You should see themshoot fish in the rapids. That's really exciting. And they call themtoo."
"Oh, now you're fooling!" exclaimed Frank. "How can they call fish?"
"I don't know how they can, but I know they do," replied the explorer."They stand near the water and wiggle their fingers and whistle andthe fish come up. I've seen it scores of times and I'll wager you'llsee it done too."
"Well, I suppose we'll have to believe it, if you say it's true," saidTom, "but it does sound like a fish story."
Sam's cooking proved highly successful, and as they were busilyeating, Colcord suddenly jumped up and stood listening attentively.The next moment the boys heard a slight splash and a grating noise andone of the Indians uttered a low cry in his native tongue. Immediatelyfrom the river came an answering call and a moment later, a canoeappeared in the reflection of the firelight on the river. About it theIndians gathered.
"By glory, we've got visitors!" exclaimed Rawlins. "Wonder who theyare."
"Indians," replied Mr. Thorne. "Know who they are, Colcord?"
"No, Chief," replied the Boviander. "I 'spect they's Wapisianas orMacusis from topside."
As he spoke two bronze-skinned figures approached the fire, clad onlyin their scarlet "laps" or loin cloths. Without uttering a word theypassed around the fire, shaking hands with each member of the party,and then, squatting down, remained motionless and silent for a fullminute. Evidently this was bush etiquette for Colcord and Mr. Thorneseemed to regard it as a matter of course. Then the explorer passedthe new arrivals a tin of tobacco, Colcord filled a tin dish full offood and set it before them, and, as the Indians began to eat, theexplorer spoke.
"You fellow makeum walk Rockstone?" he asked. "Come all time topside?"
"Makeum walk Bartica," responded one of the red men. "Come Pakarimalike so."
"How you callum, Macusi mebbe?" inquired the explorer.
"Arekuna," replied the other Indian.
"Eh, eh! Arekuna!" exclaimed Mr. Thorne. "You sabby white man makeumfly all same bird like so?" The explorer made a sound like the exhaustof an airplane's motor.
The Indians glanced sharply at the explorer and muttered some words intheir own tongue.
"Me sabby," vouchsafed one of the two at last. "Me hearum. No sabbyhim white man. Me sabby him peai. No likeum plenty."
"Ah, we're getting on the trail!" exclaimed Mr. Thorne, turningtowards Mr. Pauling. "They've seen or heard the plane, that'scertain."
"But what do they mean by 'peai'?" asked Tom.
"Magic, witchcraft," replied Mr. Thorne. "Anything a Buck doesn'tunderstand, or fears, or thinks supernatural, is peai."
Then, again addressing the Arekunas, he asked. "Where you seeum? Yousabby what side him go?"
"No seeum," replied the Indian. "Makeum noise like so. Him plentypeai. Him go Maipurisi side."
"Good!" cried the explorer. "Trust the Bucks to know where they wenteven if they didn't see the plane. I'll bet they're over in that lakeon the Maipurisi. Just the place for them."
"Didn't I say they couldn't sneak around here without being seen?"cried Rawlins.
"Hmm, it doesn't look as if we'd have much trouble in tracing them atall events," remarked Mr. Pauling. "How far is Maipurisi from here?"
The explorer turned to Colcord. "How far is it, Colcord?" he asked.
The Boviander considered a minute and then spoke rapidly to theArekunas in their own native tongue. Then, when the Indians hadanswered, he replied, "Two days coming down, Chief."
"That means about six days going up," commented Mr. Thorne. "There aresome pretty bad falls to haul over."
Suddenly Tom was seized with an idea and, whispering to Frank, roseand began rummaging in a chest.
"What are you boys up to?" asked Mr. Pauling.
"Going to set up our radio receivers," replied Tom. "Perhaps we mayhear something. We ought to be listening whenever we can."
"Good idea," commented his father. "After this, we'd better keep oneset ready in the boat all the time."
As the two boys busied themselves connecting the instruments, theIndians and Colcord watched them closely, the red men seeminglyfascinated by the mysterious-looking cabinets and their bright,nickel-plated binding posts and glowing bulbs. Little by little theyedged nearer and nearer until a circle of naked bronze bodies and keenblack eyes was formed about the boys and their instruments.
"I'll say they think that's 'peai,'" chuckled Rawlins. "I wonder whatthey'd do if a signal did come in."
"Be scared half to death," declared Mr. Thorne. "Those are fineinstruments you have, boys."
"We made them all ourselves," replied Tom. "That is, all except theresonance coil. We got that from the sub."
As Tom spoke, he adjusted the receivers, while; Frank
moved the coilslowly about. To the Indians this evidently savored of some mysteriousreligious ceremony or incantation, and the boys could not helpgrinning as they saw the eager eyes of their Buck friends followingevery motion of the coil.
For some time Frank tried it towards the south, but no sound came toTom's ears, and it was evident that if the plane were in thatdirection its occupants were not sending.
"Swing it around to the north," directed Tom "We'll see if we can pickup anything from Georgetown or any ship."
Turning, Frank moved the resonance coil around, and the next instantthe sharp "dee-dah" of a dot and dash signal buzzed clearly from thereceiver. With one accord the Indians tumbled head over heels as theystrove to get away from the spot and, with frightened exclamations andterrified faces, picked themselves up and cowered near the fire.
"Peai!" they exclaimed. "Plenty peai! Me tellum no likeum him fellow!"Every one burst out laughing and the Indian paddlers rathershamefacedly attempted to grin at their own fright. But the twoArekunas would have none of it and jabbered together earnestly intheir own tongue.
"By glory!" exclaimed the diver. "If they're that scared at the codesignals, wouldn't they get a jolt if they heard a voice coming in!"
"Thank Heaven they didn't!" said Mr. Thorne. "If they had, I'm afraidthey would all have deserted."
Meanwhile the sharp "dees" and "dahs" were coming in on theinstruments, and Tom, from force of habit, was mentally forming theminto letters and words.
"It's some cipher message," he announced presently. "No sense to it atall."
"Take it down," exclaimed his father, suddenly interested. "It may befor those rascals with the plane."
Once more the message was coming in and Tom rapidly jotted down thewords and handed the paper to his father. "They're sending the samething over and over again," he said. "That's the third time it's beenrepeated."
Mr. Pauling eagerly scanned the message and slowly a smile and anexpression of satifaction spread across his features.
"It's for us!" he ejaculated. "Good news. The _Devon's_ taken!Jove! It seems little short of uncanny to be getting word from Maidleyway up here in the jungle."
"I'll say 'tis!" cried Rawlins. "Bully for the Colonel! Where did theyget her?"
"Hurrah!" cried the boys. "Now these fellows up the river _are_in a fix!"
"He doesn't say where," replied Mr. Pauling. "Didn't want to use anyname, I suppose--no cipher word for that--just says: 'Ship taken. Allon board held.' He's no fool, Maidley. He knew the plane would hearthis and took no chances of saying anything to make them suspicious. Iexpect he thought we might be listening and broadcasted the message inhopes we'd get it."
"Good old scout," declared the explorer. "Just like him to do that."
"Can you send a message back acknowledging this?" asked Mr. Pauling,turning to Tom.
"No," replied Tom. "We didn't bring our sending set. We thought if wereceived it would be all we needed."
"Hmm, too bad," commented his father. "Sorry Maidley won't know we gotit and will keep on sending. Those fellows may get suspicious if theyhear the same message coming in night after night."
"He'll know we got it before to-morrow night," declared Mr. Thorne."I'll send word to him."
"How?" asked Mr. Pauling. "What magic do you use?"
"Easily enough," replied the explorer. "These Arekunas are going toBartica. They'll be there before noon to-morrow and there's atelegraph line from there to Georgetown. Write a message to Maidleyand they'll take it to Bartica and give it to the telegraph officethere. It will be in Maidley's hands by noon."
"By Jove!" exclaimed Mr. Pauling. "I didn't realize we were so closelyin touch with civilization."
The message was soon written and Mr. Thorne handed it to one of thestill frightened Arekunas. "Must for takeum Bartica like so," heinstructed the Indian. "No looseum. When makeum Bartica side giveumMr. Fowler. You sabby him fellow?"
The Arekuna slipped the folded paper into a jaguar skin pouch hangingfrom his neck, "Me sabby," he said. "Takeum Mr. Fowler same way."
"Can you depend on those fellows?" asked Mr. Henderson.
"Absolutely," Mr. Thorne assured him. "I've never known an Indian tolose or forget a message and they're strictly honest and trustworthy.I've known an Indian to travel over three hundred miles through thebush to return ten shillings he'd borrowed."
"Not much like our redskins in the States," commented Mr. Henderson.
"I don't know about that," declared the explorer. "I've always foundprimitive men honest--it's civilization that ruins them. These Bucksare little more than vagabonds and scalawags once they becomecivilized and live near the settlements."
Presently the Arekunas silently withdrew, the Indian boatmen soughttheir hammocks, and the white men and boys followed their example.Although the boys had become somewhat accustomed to the noises of abush night while at Colcord's house, yet here in their forest campbeside the mighty river, they felt strange and nervous. The boom andcroak of frogs and the incessant sounds of myriads of insects were thesame as they had already heard, but far louder and more numerous thanat Colcord's, and in addition there were a thousand and one othernoises for which the boys could not account and which kept theirsleepy tired eyes wide open. But the Indians were sleeping soundly;from Rawlins' hammock, came lusty snores and the boys, despite theirnervousness, finally lost consciousness and did not awaken untilaroused by the sounds of the Indians starting the fire at dawn.
The Arekunas had already slipped away downstream, and, by the timebreakfast was ready, camp had been broken, everything was neatlypacked in the boat, and the Indian paddlers were waiting in theirplaces.
For hour after hour they paddled upstream. Rocky islands appeared inthe river--some bare and carved and worn by the water into oddgrotesque forms,--others covered with trees. The current flowed moreswiftly and just before noon a dull roaring sound reached the boys'ears, and, peering ahead, they saw a line of flashing white stretchingacross the river from shore to shore.
"First rapids," Mr. Thorne informed them. "We'll have lunch beforehauling through, Colcord."
"Gosh, I call those falls and not rapids!" declared Tom as the boatwas run ashore on the sandy beach of a tiny island. "I don't see howyou expect to get this big boat through that."
"Wait and see," chuckled the explorer.
As Colcord leaped ashore he stopped, bent down, and examined the sand.
"Water Haas!" he exclaimed, pointing to a number of small indentationsin the beach.
"What are 'water haas'?" asked Tom. "Some kind of animals?"
"Capybara--sort of giant Guinea pigs," replied Mr. Thorne. "They'relikely to be in the brush here. Get your guns and you may be able toshoot one. They're good meat."
Eager for the chance to secure game, the boys and Rawlins got out therifles they had brought and started up the beach, following the littletrail left by the water haas. Presently they noticed that, instead ofone, there were half a dozen tracks and at Rawlins' suggestion theyseparated and cautiously approached a tangle of palms and small treesnear the upper end of the island.
Gaining the edge of the thicket, Frank, who was nearest the river,peered through the screen of foliage. As he carefully parted theleaves and branches, there was a startled snort and three big,clumsy-looking brown creatures leaped from the damp ground and stoodfor an instant staring towards the boy and sniffing the airsuspiciously. So surprised was Frank at the sudden appearance of thebeasts that, for a moment, he forget to shoot, and the next second thethree animals were scurrying out of sight. Hastily throwing up hisrifle, Frank blazed away at the retreating forms.
"What was it? What did you shoot?" yelled Tom, as he and Rawlins camerunning at the report of Frank's rifle.
"Don't know if I shot anything or what they were," replied Frank. "Iwas so surprised I didn't fire till they were running away. They wentover there."
Hurrying to the other side of the thicket, Rawlins, who was inadvance, gave a shout. "I'll say you shot him!" he cried. "G
uess it'sone of those water haas."
The two boys hurried forward and found the diver bending over the deadanimal, a curious-looking creature with short stiff hair, an enormoushead and broad blunt snout.
"Why, he's got webbed feet!" exclaimed Frank who was examining hisprize.
"And he does look like a huge Guinea pig," declared Tom.
Elated at their success, the boys picked up the animal and hurriedback to the boat.
"Yes, it's a water haas or capybara," declared Mr. Thorne. "Now we'llhave a fine feast to-night."
"But he's got webbed feet," said Frank. "Can they swim?"
"Can they!" exclaimed the explorer. "Like a fish. That's why they'recalled water haas--it's Dutch for water horse. They're as amphibiousas seals almost."
"Say, let's take a swim!" suggested Tom. "I'm hot and the water looksfine."
"Don't you try it!" cried the explorer. "The place is full of peraiand you'd surely be eaten alive."
"Why, what do you mean?" demanded Tom, puzzled. "I thought perai wasmagic or witchcraft. How can that eat us?"
Mr. Thorne burst out laughing and Colcord, who stood near, shook withmerriment.
"Peai is witchcraft," explained the explorer. "Perai is a kind offish--'cannibal fish,' they're called sometimes. They're the mostdeadly and savage creatures in the bush. They'll tear anything that'sflesh to bits, in a moment. It's lucky I stopped you in time."
"Is that really true?" asked Mr. Pauling. "I've read travelers' talesof them, but I always supposed they were real 'fish stories.'"
"Not at all," Mr. Thorne assured him. "Let me demonstrate it."
Picking up a bit of meat, the explorer stepped close to the water andtossed it into the river. Instantly there was a splash, a flash ofsilver, and the meat was dragged under. The next moment the waterfairly boiled with leaping, darting fish, and the onlookers gazed withamazement as the voracious, savage creatures tore and snapped and bit.
"Gee, I'm glad I'm not in there!" exclaimed Frank. "They're likehungry wolves."
"Worse," declared Mr. Thorne. "They seem to go blind mad at the smellof flesh, and their jaws are so powerful and their teeth so sharp theycan bite a piece out of a plank. A man would be torn to bits--eatenalive--if he went in there."
"Jiminy, I'd hate to tumble overboard!" exclaimed Tom.
"That's the odd thing about them," remarked Mr. Thorne as they startedback towards the boat. "They won't touch a man if he has clotheson--apparently do not recognize flesh if covered by garments. In someparts of the rivers they are harmless--never touch people--and thenatives bathe freely."
"Well, I'm not taking any chances," declared Tom. "I'll go without abath for a while."
Embarking once more, the boat was paddled upstream and at the foot ofthe roaring, rushing falls, which the boys now saw were really aseries of steep rapids, dashing and foaming over the jagged blackrocks, the craft was run alongside a smooth ledge.
"All out!" cried Mr. Thorne, leaping ashore.
Filled with interest to discover how the Indians would get the heavyboat through that tumbling seething mass of water to the river level,twenty feet above, the boys scrambled up over the rocks and watchedevery move of Colcord and his men.
"This isn't a bad spot," commented the explorer. "They'll get throughwithout discharging. But, in many places, everything has to be takenfrom the boat and portaged for a mile or more around the rapids.Sometimes a score of such portages must be made in order to travel adozen miles upstream, so you can understand how tedious and slowtraveling in the interior is."
"This looks bad enough to suit me," declared Tom. "I should think theboats would get smashed all to bits."
"They're built for the purpose," replied Mr. Thorne. "Tough nativewood and with spoon-shaped bottoms, so they slide off a rock in anydirection." Some of the Indians had now uncoiled a long light rope andwere moving upstream, jumping and scrambling from rock to rock, attimes plunging into the swirling water up to their armpits or evenswimming through the racing current, until at last they gained aprecarious foothold upon a projecting ledge in midstream, well abovethe falls. In the meantime, others had attached a second line to thestern of the boat and stood waiting for orders close to the water'sedge, while the bowman and Colcord braced themselves in bow and stern,grasping their immense paddles.
For a moment the Boviander glanced about, studying the lashing whitefoam and the jagged, black rocks, casting his eyes over the waitingIndians to see that all were ready. Then, with a sharp "Hi-yi!", hedug his great paddle into the water. Instantly the bowman shoved thecraft from shore into the current; the men on the bow rope hauled andtugged with all their strength; the captain shouted orders and threwhis weight on his six foot paddle; the bowman paddled furiously; themen at the stern line bent to their task; and slowly the boat forgedahead. With consummate skill the Boviander and the bowman swung thecraft to right and left, clearing the rocks by inches; the stern linekept it headed into the torrent; and foot by foot the boat crept upthe falls. How the captain and bowman ever kept their balance as theboat rocked and pitched and seemed about to stand on end was a mysteryto the boys, but with bodies swaying to the jerking, tossing craftthey strained at their paddles--sweating, grunting, shouting, whileabout the bow the angry waters foamed and seethed and the hungry wavesleaped above the gunwhales. For a moment the craft stood motionless,shaking and trembling to the terrific strain, and then human musclesand human brains won. The craft shot forward, the Indians yelled andrapidly gathered in slack, and the next instant the boat was safe fromthe torrent in a calm backwater above the falls.
"Gosh, that was great!" cried Tom, as, leaping from rock to rock, theboys made their way towards the boat.
"I'll say 'twas!" exclaimed Rawlins. "But, by golly, if a rope hadparted we'd have been in a nice fix."
By the time the passengers were seated the lines had been coiled away,the Indians were once more in their places, and a moment later theboat was speeding upstream over a stretch of tranquil water.
But now the character of the river had changed. Sand bars and woodedislands broke its surface; the trees along the banks towered upwardfor over one hundred feet; the stream twisted and turned and flowedswiftly in dark, wine-colored currents between the islands; and eventhe birds and foliage seemed different. Little fresh water flying fishskittered away from the boat, great flocks of twittering swallowsflitted about, clouds of brilliant yellow butterflies floated back andforth across the stream, and once or twice the boys caught glimpses ofotters swimming in the river ahead.
In places, too, gaudy flowers that had fallen from the great treescovered the surface of the river with a solid mass of color, and theboat seemed to be passing over some gorgeous carpet, while thereflections of foliage and trees were so perfect that the boys had thestrange sensation of being suspended in mid-air between two forests.
Very soon, however, the tranquil water came to an end and anotherseries of rapids barred the way. Once more the men labored and tuggedand dragged the boat up the falls, and time after time, as the fallswere reached, the process was repeated. Then Mr. Thorne announced thatthey were approaching a really dangerous spot and as the boat roundeda bend the occupants saw a plunging, rock-strewn cataract, half hiddenin the mist rising from the roaring water at its base. Here all thebaggage was taken out and carried over the rocks and with only theempty boat the Indians and the Bovianders prepared for a tug of warwith the falls. Over and over again they strove to gain a foothold onthe slippery rocks, and a dozen times they were swept strugglingdownstream. But they laughed and yelled and shouted and seemed toenjoy the excitement and at last won a stand, waist deep in the flood,and by almost superhuman efforts dragged their craft to the waterabove the cataract. But the most dangerous part was yet to come. Ashort distance above the falls was a huge whirlpool--a dark, sinistermass of water in a basin of steep walled rock; deep, threatening, withits current rotating silently, swiftly around and around while, at itscenter, at the very vortex, masses of foam, bubbles and driftwood hadbee
n drawn and were constantly being sucked suddenly out of sight orthrust bobbing above the surface.
"Ugh! Isn't that a nasty looking spot!" cried Tom. "Say, have we gotto cross that?"
Mr. Thorne nodded. "Yes, just sit tight and don't jump and you'll beall right," he declared. "If a paddle doesn't break we'll get throughsafely. It's the only way and the worst spot on the river."
As he spoke the captain was testing each paddle, examining the bladesand handles for possible cracks and at last, with the baggage stowedsnugly, the Indians and Sam in their places, Colcord told them thatall was ready.
With fast beating hearts the boys seated themselves, Mr. Thorne, Mr.Pauling, Mr. Henderson and Rawlins took their accustomed places andwith a "Yip-yi!" from the Boviander the paddles dug into the water andthe coorial shot out upon the swirling black surface of the pool.
With every ounce of their strength, with their muscles straining undertheir bronze skins, the men plied their paddles and Colcord and thebowman swung their weight upon their huge paddles at bow and stern.For an instant the boat hung motionless, the bow quivered and vibratedto the drag of the current and then the craft darted ahead. High abovethe gunwales boiled the maelstrom as the centre of the whirlpool wasreached, the boat seemed actually to stand on end, it slid up a hillof water and ere the boys realized it was accomplished the coorial haddashed beyond the danger point and was safe in a narrow, swiftlyflowing channel above the pool. And at this instant, just as the boathad gained safety, there was a sharp report and one of the Indianstumbled head over heels as his paddle broke short at the blade!
"Gee!" cried Frank. "It was lucky that didn't happen a minute sooner!"
"I'll say 'twas!" agreed Rawlins. "We'd have been goners if it had,sure."
"A miss is as good as a mile," laughed Mr. Thorne. "You have to trusta lot to luck in this work."
"Same as in diving," remarked Rawlins.
"Well, Colcord, I guess we can call this a day's work," said theexplorer as the boat swung into the broader river and tranquil water."Find a good spot and we'll make camp for the night."
The boat was soon run ashore, the tarpaulin was quickly stretched andthe crew lolled about, glad of a chance to rest their weary muscles.
"I suppose we might as well listen and see if we hear anything,"suggested Tom, as Sam busied himself with the cooking.
"Yes, take every chance you get," said his father. "We're gettingnearer and nearer to the spot all the time."
But no sound came into the receivers and with Sam's call to dinner theinstruments were laid aside.
But when dinner was over, the boys once more adjusted their receiversand prepared to listen to anything that might be passing through theair. Tom clamped the phones to his ears, Frank turned the resonancecoil about and as it pointed towards the south, Tom fairly leaped fromhis seat.
"Jumping Jiminy!" he exclaimed. "They're talking!"
"What?" cried Mr. Pauling. "Are you sure? Get what they say!"
Tense with excitement, leaning forward with breaths coming fast, allwere silent, listening with straining ears to the faint buzzing soundsfrom the instrument while Tom rapidly jotted down the message."They've stopped!" he announced at last. "I guess--Gosh! What's that?"
As he had been speaking, Frank, thinking the signals over, had turnedaround and as he did so, sharp "dees and dahs" once more issued fromthe receiver. Instantly all were again silent, glancing at one anotherwith wonder and amazement on their features, for the signals werecoming in with the coil pointed to the east! A moment later the soundsceased and Tom handed the slip of paper to his father.
"By glory!" ejaculated Rawlins. "Some one must have answered them!"
"Sounded like it," agreed Mr. Henderson. "But it couldn't be any oneon the _Devon_. We know she's captured."
"And it did not come from the direction of Georgetown," said Mr.Thorne. "Whoever was sending that message is to the east--in DutchGuiana I think."
"It's meaningless gibberish," declared Mr. Pauling who had beenstudying the sheet of paper. "Just numbers and nothing more."
"Cipher, of course," commented Mr. Henderson. "Well, that proves theywere talking to some one who replied. Otherwise the two messages wouldnot be in the same cipher."
"I can decode it--if I take time," declared Mr. Pauling. "But Isuppose if I do, it will be of little use--probably in Russian."
"Well it's blamed good news anyway," cried the diver. "It proves theold rascal and the plane are still 'topside' as the Indians say."
"And also that we haven't rounded up all the gang yet," added Mr.Pauling.
"No doubt they landed some one from the _Devon_," suggested Mr.Thorne, "or already had confederates in Surinam."
"In a way I'm glad they have," declared Mr. Pauling. "Otherwise they'dnot have any one to talk with. Better listen a while longer, boys."
But no other signals came in and at last, yawning and tired, the twoboys put away their instruments and with the others crawled into theirhammocks and fell instantly to sleep.
